


our little vignette

by Flowerparrish



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish
Summary: “You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.”





	our little vignette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SashaSea (SHCombatalade)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHCombatalade/gifts).



> For Sasha, my #1 bro, who introduced me to this book and prompted this fic. 
> 
> I totally used the Hozier lyrics title generator for the title. #noregrets

Henry and Alex have always slept better with each other than without (and that doesn’t mean they always sleep well even then).

 

Henry’s just returned from a gala in London that his mother insisted he attend and a flight so early in the morning that it may as well still have been night, scheduled and suffered for the chance at this exact sight: Alex, sleep-rumpled and still wearing yesterday’s clothes, sharing their bed with textbooks and case reviews and notes and binders and highlighters and pens that are undoubtedly staining the sheets.

 

Even now, even after years of dating and months of living together, the sight is still enough to take his breath away.

 

Henry approaches the chaos with no small amount of trepidation—he knows better than to mess with Alex’s notes, even to tidy them—but can’t resist reaching out to brush his fingers through Alex’s curly hair and across the line of his jaw.

 

He thinks he’s perhaps been stealthy enough to go unnoticed, but after a moment Alex stirs, shifting on the bed and sending a binder tumbling to the floor.

 

He blinks up at Henry, and Henry thinks, _oh, hello;_ his heart skipping a beat, the same way it has every time he’s met Alex’s gaze in their long history.

 

“You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn,” Alex complains, his voice sleep-rough and soft, ultimately ruining the effect of the words.

 

Henry lifts a judgmental eyebrow. “It’s hardly dawn.”

 

Alex yawns to cover a smile, but Henry sees through it. “Well, some of us didn’t get to sleep until past 4,” he says, as if that’s Henry’s fault and not his own.

 

Maybe it is, after a fashion. Had Henry been home, he may have coaxed Alex into bed hours sooner—although what they got up to wouldn’t have necessarily meant they fell asleep any significant amount of time sooner, in the end.

 

“Some of us didn’t sleep at all,” Henry counters easily. “And now you’re taking up the whole bed.”

 

Alex looks down at the chaos surrounding him like he’s only just noticed it. “Oh, fuck,” he says. “I am.”

 

“Quite.”

 

Henry can’t help but smile at Alex’s sleepy confusion that’s quickly becoming aggravation at himself and the situation he’s found himself in. “I have class at ten,” he whines, because sometimes he’s actually as much of a brat as Henry accuses him of being. “What time is it?”

 

“Just past seven,” Henry tells him, attempting to conceal his disappointment. He _knows_ Alex’s schedule, but a part of him hoped that if he got home soon enough, he could slip into bed beside him, lay pressed close with him for a few hours.

 

Alex pushes his notes into a haphazard stack and places them on the floor, the pens piled on top. He’s very unsubtly trying to hide the stain where one of the pens leaked blue ink onto the sheets, and Henry rolls his eyes.

 

_This,_ he thinks, _is the man I love._

It’s just as revolutionary now as it was when he first realized it.

 

“Well, are you coming to bed?” Alex asks, petulant.

 

“You have class,” Henry points out.

 

Alex shrugs. “I’ll get up in an hour. It can wait.”

 

Henry knows he should protest—it probably can’t wait, or shouldn’t wait, not for him—but Alex fixes him with a Look and he caves.

 

“Of course, dear,” he says, just snide enough to cover how genuine the words actually are.

 

Alex rolls his eyes, but he wraps himself around Henry in a way that means Henry will absolutely be woken up when Alex climbs over him and out of bed in an hour, but that’s perfect for now.

 

He’s… happy. The ache in his chest that started some time in his youth and worsened the day his father died hasn’t been permanently eradicated, but no longer is it a permanent fixture. He’s lighter. He’s free.

 

“I love you,” he tells Alex, just before he drops off to sleep.

 

He feels soft, warm lips against his cheek, hears Alex say, “I love you too,” and falls asleep awash in warmth and gratitude that the world gave him _this._


End file.
